


With a Little Help From My Friends

by BakerKeen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgy, PIV, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crops, Spanking, Swingers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4483379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakerKeen/pseuds/BakerKeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once in a while, the buzzing in Molly's head got to be so intense that it was a physical pain. Dark thoughts, usually kept at bay, swirled to the forefront and consumed her. In the past, Molly and chased them away with drink or cuts to her thighs, but over time she realized that the voids she needed to fill were more literal than that. </p><p>The first time, it had only been Sherlock and John. Then, two months later, when the buzzing grew too loud again, Sherlock had taken in the set of her jaw, the wince of her eyes, and said, "I'll let John know to be ready tonight." Then, he had glanced over her lip biting, eye-averting gaze, and corrected himself. "And Greg and Sally, as well."</p><p>You want to Sherlock to plan your orgy. </p><p>He wasn't omniscient, not quite, but he knew them all so well at this point, could read their signals so precisely, but he may as well have been. He knew that he and Sally were the only ones comfortable providing Molly with the licks of pain she craved. Knew that Molly preferred Greg for her mouth and that she liked watching John and Sally together. Dozens and dozens of unspoken truths, that he orchestrated into a cacophony of bliss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Little Help From My Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Just pure smut. I marked Sherlock/John because their relationship is implied, but not much sexual happens between them here. (Sorry!)

Once in a while, the buzzing in Molly's head got to be so intense that it was a physical pain. Dark thoughts, usually kept at bay, swirled to the forefront and consumed her. In the past, Molly and chased them away with drink or cuts to her thighs, but over time she realized that the voids she needed to fill were more literal than that. 

The first time, it had only been Sherlock and John. Then, two months later, when the buzzing grew too loud again, Sherlock had taken in the set of her jaw, the wince of her eyes, and said, "I'll let John know to be ready tonight." Then, he had glanced over her lip biting, eye-averting gaze, and corrected himself. "And Greg and Sally, as well."

You want to Sherlock to plan your orgy. 

He wasn't omniscient, not quite, but he knew them all so well at this point, could read their signals so precisely, but he may as well have been. He knew that he and Sally were the only ones comfortable providing Molly with the licks of pain she craved. Knew that Molly preferred Greg for her mouth and that she liked watching John and Sally together. Dozens and dozens of unspoken truths, that he orchestrated into a cacophony of bliss.

Three days ago, Sherlock visited Molly in the morgue and saw the corner of a damp envelope sticking out of her pocket. Heavy stationary, black ink, male handwriting. Molly had tugged it open roughly, but had ripped off the jagged bits and thrown them away. So, a letter from a man who cares about appearances, who expected neatness and perfection, who made Molly nervous and lived to the north. She rubbed her neck and Sherlock asked about some test results; it wasn't time yet. 

The next day, Molly was pale and shaky and sipped strong coffee all day. 

The following day, she was pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut against the light of the room. "I'll tell the others. Your flat, this evening."

Molly didn't meet his eyes, just nodded once.

\----  
Sherlock showed up early that night, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Molly raised her eyebrows questioningly. Sherlock dropped the bag beside the couch. "I thought we would try something more tonight. You'll like it."

She was certain she would. They had all long ago learned to place their trust in Sherlock when they played. He sometimes pushed people to their limits, but had yet to go past them. 

Pouring then each a whisky, Sherlock arched an eyebrow questioningly. "Want to tell me about the letter from your father?" he asked, handing over a glass and taking a sip from his own. 

Molly knocked back most of the glass in one swallow. "No." She licked the whisky from her lips. "I'll feel better after." _And you already know most of it, anyway._

Sherlock took another sip of his drink, and poured Molly one more shot. "We're people of action. I always enjoy a good fight when nothing else clears my mind. Same thing."

Molly set her glass down, wanting another but knowing that all of them, save Sherlock, would leave if they got here and found her drunk. "What's the plan, then? Or is it a surprise?"

And Sherlock rifled through the bag and came up with a blindfold. "Turn," he commanded. Molly did, and as Sherlock knotted the fabric behind her ears, he murmured, "You won't even know who's fucking you. Could be any of us. Perhaps I've invited someone new." Molly smiled faintly, and shifted her weight. Definitely affirmative. Sherlock led her across the room, pushing her shoulders and she was sitting on the couch. "Lie down." Molly stretched out like a cat and Sherlock traced a finger from her cheek, to her neck, in a straight line between her breasts, and circling her navel twice before disappearing.

A few minutes later, Sherlock let the others in, and they each got a drink and chatted for a minute or two before Sherlock spoke and everyone felt quiet. "Clothes off, everyone except Molly." Her blood started to sing in anticipation as the sounds of belt buckles and shuffling feet and tossed clothing filled the room. "You," Sherlock directed somebody. "Go undress Molly and get her warmed up a bit."

Molly heard someone kneel beside the couch, then felt him -- didn't smell like Sally -- turn her face for a kiss. He ran his tongue against her lips and she opened for him but he kept the kiss shallow, a series of teasing flicks and nips, as he unbuttoned her blouse and trousers. He pushed the top off her shoulders and she sat up to wriggle out of it. 

Hands unclasped her lacy bra and fingers pinched her nipples into taut peaks as Molly squirmed. Suddenly the fingers were gone, replaced by a warm mouth that was sucking and scraping and lapping. The mouth disappeared and her trousers were being tugged down. Then ... nothing, for nearly a full minute. The anticipation was delicious. Had Sherlock called him off? She strained with her ears but couldn't make out any useful information. Then fingertips were flirting at the top seam of her thong, and a biting kiss warmed her neck. When Molly was making happy noises and squirming a bit, the fingers at her pelvis swept up her body, and an affectionate kiss was pressed to her lips. 

Molly leaned her head against the warm hand that was cradling it. "Hi, John."

He exhaled an amused noise and kissed her again. "Hi, Molly. I'm not so sure about this blindfold, especially with some of the other stuff Sherlock has planned."

Molly reached down to pat his half-erection. "Part of you likes it just fine." 

Sherlock's voice was sharp. "Molly, hands off. John, there's no problem."

John's voice turned. "Yes, there is. Molly can't see what's coming to tell us if she doesn't want it, and you can't read her face as well with it half-covered."

Greg's voice was suddenly next to John. Whose hands were rubbing all over her? "Molly, what's the safeword?"

Molly arched into a pinch of her nipples, sighing happily when Sherlock instructed him to do it harder. "Jim." Sharp teeth replaced the pinching fingers. _Better_.

John's voice, growling in her ear. "Say it again." Molly rubbed her thighs together, trying for some friction. 

A sharp _thwap_ cut through the air and then sweet pain seared her thigh. Molly gasped, and Sally's commanding voice rang through the air. "John gave you a command. Say the safeword."

"Jim!" 

Fingers slid under her thong and dipped inside her cunt. "Mmm, boys, she is dripping wet. Here, taste what a little slut you are." Sally's finger slid in her mouth and Molly sucked them eagerly. 

Sherlock observed. Sally was angry, most probably with him for his remark at the crime scene the day before. John was torn between wanting to get off and wanting to cancel everything because of the stupid blindfold. Greg was watching Sally's fingers getting sucked with great interest. Molly was itching for rough handling tonight, was already humming against Sally's fingers. "Somebody shut her up," he said coldly. 

The fingers pulled back and smacked her across the face, hard. Molly cried out a soft moan and a cock filled her open mouth. The riding crop kissed across her thighs a few times and she heard Sherlock's voice floating at her from far away. "If you want to stop, and you can't talk, tap out. MOLLY!" A crack of the riding crop brought her to attention. "How do you safeword out if your mouth is full?" She shook her head; she'd never use it. Another crack, this time across her knuckles. Molly's yelp was muffled by cock. 

"Show me," Sherlock said dangerously. She tapped her fingers obediently against the couch, and the riding crop slid softly up her arm, over her breasts, and down her torso to her already-sore thighs. "Better. Now stand her up. We're going to the bedroom."

A fist closed in her hair, yanking her to her feet and leading her forward. Molly reached out to stroke Sally's soft skin, a silent thank you for the pain. The noise in her head was finally starting to dampen.

A strong hand grabbed her around the throat, pushing her back against the bed and grinding his cock against her face. "When Sally wants you, she'll have you," Sherlock admonished. "I think you need some boundaries. Tie her hands." He released her throat, allowing her one greedy breath before he stuffed her mouth full of cock. Just as she started to feel dizzy, he pulled out, rubbing himself on her face. 

Someone had tied her up, hands stretched above her, arse and legs hanging off the mattress. Sherlock flipped her onto her belly, crossing her wrists. Sharp nails raked down her back. "Your cunt is so wet that you've soaked through your knickers," Sally observed.

Sherlock stepped back. "Everybody, condoms on." For a moment, the sound of foil ripping filled the air and Sally climbed up on the bed, pulling Molly forward so she could sit in front of her and rub her pussy against her face. " _You._ Rip her wet panties right off her body and fuck her pussy. _You_ , get in line."

Molly's thong was ripped away from her body and her legs were lifted. Sally nudged her clit in her mouth and Molly sucked. "Do you want to know who's fucking you?" Molly shrugged a shoulder as a cock pushed into her. "Good. You're a right little slut, aren't you? You'll let anyone fuck you." Whoever was fucking her set a rhythm, but it wasn't enough. "Maybe next time we can just blindfold you and strip you and drape you over a table out in the lobby with a sign that says 'Free Fucks'. Would you like that?" Molly groaned into Sally's lap. Whoever was fucking her -- she suspected it was Greg -- seemed to like it, too. His strokes came a little faster and harder, finally. "The next day you'd get in the lift and not know who you'd fucked or who'd watched." 

Sally was getting close, which did not fit Sherlock's plan. He rifled through the bag and pulled out a collar. He buckled it around his own neck and attached a short, leather wristlet to it. "Pull out and go fuck her mouth now. _You_ , start prepping her arse. Sally, where do you want me?" 

Her eyes lit up and she scooted up the large bed and sat up, dangling her legs over the side. "Kneel on the floor, here." 

Molly tucked her knees under her and turned her head to the side to welcome the slide of a cock -- John's, she thought, now -- against her tongue. She heard the other one pop open the cap on a bottle of lube and felt the press of a thick, slippery finger against her. It pushed in and she yelped against the cock in her mouth. The finger stilled and she pushed back onto it. The slight burn was perfect, almost enough. She opened her mouth wider, relaxing her throat to take him deeper. 

Sally was staring down at Sherlock, kneeling at her feet. "You were bad yesterday." 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Considering I solved the case within--" 

Sally landed a stinging smack across his face. "Shut the fuck up, Sherlock." Then she yanked on his lead, pulling him forward into her lap. "You'd better make me scream." She rubbed against his face, smearing her slick against his cheek and nose before settling against his mouth. "Eat me, and do it righ...." 

The last word was drowned out by a gasp as Sherlock fluttered his tongue over her clit. He kept his licks light and teasing, goading her. She pulled on his collar, smashing his face against her cunt, but he didn't give her the suction she needed. 

Sally tugged him back with the leash, slapping him hard against the face. "Goddamnit," she growled, slapping him again. She dug her fingers in his curls, yanking his head back to look at her face. "Do it right." She pulled on the collar, forcing his mouth against her again. 

A few feet away, Molly was taking one cock deep in her mouth, and another was just starting to push into her arse. Tears started to drip beneath her blindfold and she was gripped the ropes tightly. The burn in her arse was delicious, and she couldn't even scream because of the cock choking her. She pulled at the ropes, letting them bite into her wrists. It was perfect. 

Above her, John grunted, his voice giving him away. He was starting to lose his rhythm in her mouth, but he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a few more deep thrusts before groaning into his orgasm. 

Behind her, Greg set a faster pace. Molly could tell he was trying not to be rough, but it hurt regardless. She pushed into the burn and cried out wantonly. 

Beside her, Sally was moaning encouragement and rocking up into Sherlock's mouth. All of a sudden, she jerked and hissed. "Fuuuuuck, freak, just like that. Oh my God, just a little --" She broke off and less than a minute later, she went stiff and cried out as waves of pleasure rolled through her. "Oh, shit," she panted. "That was incredible. You really are a bloody genius." 

Sherlock chuckled, kissing her thigh to wipe off some of the slick on his mouth before he crawled up Sally's body to kiss her mouth, rubbing a thumb against her cheekbone. "Better?" Sally nodded, and he kissed her once more before crawling back off the bed to circle around and watch Greg and Molly. 

Molly was in pain, but not too much. Not enough, really. Greg couldn't see her face, and was pounding into her, thinking her moans were from ecstasy. John would have prepared her better, known when she was too tight, read her moans correctly; Greg's inexperience with anal made him ideal for Molly. His breathing grew ragged, and _there_ it was, he was right on the edge. Three more thrusts and he was stiffening, mouth open in a silent scream as he thrusted through it. 

As soon as Greg pulled out, Sherlock rolled Molly over onto her back and slung her ankles over his shoulders. He thrust into her cunt and rubbed a thumb against her clit, watching her reactions closely but knowing she wouldn't safeword. She moaned and pushed against him, wanting it harder. She was still tight, but wet enough that he knew she wasn't getting the discomfort she wanted. He set a punishing rhythm, letting go of her clit so he could snap his hips hard against her. He slammed into her as violently as he dared, knowing John would stop him if he got to be too rough. 

Molly was crying out with each battering thrust, no longer lifting her hips much to meet him. Sherlock could go quite some time like this, but he could see that she was starting to pant, seeking out oblivion. He caught Sally and John's eyes and glanced at Molly's breasts. They knelt over her on either side, lowering their mouths to suck, nip, and lick at her already-erect nipples. Molly arched into them, and Sherlock let go of one of her legs to rub right circles against her clit. 

As Molly quaked around him, body arched as she keened in ecstasy, Sherlock gentled his thrusts. He looked up to see John circling Molly's peaked nipple with his tongue and heat spiked through his groin. He held Molly's hips and bit his lower lip as he rushed to meet his pleasure. 

Greg's voice cracked through the room. "Pull out!" He did, stroking himself a few more times before spilling on Molly's belly, gulping in air. Sherlock crawled over to John, curling against him and leaning in for a quick kiss before settling back to watch. No one needed his direction for the ending. 

Greg untied Molly, and Sally removed her blindfold before leaning down to kiss her softly. Greg knelt between Molly's legs and licked at her gently, circling her clit a few times before closing around it. With gentle pressure and swirls of his tongue, Greg brought her to another orgasm as Sally kissed her sweetly and caressed her skin. 

Gradually, everyone's breathing slowed, and one by one they got up to clean up, dispose of condoms, and get dressed. Molly's eyes were sleepy but her face was light again, and her shoulders were relaxed. 

Sherlock and John collected their toys and brought her an ice pack and paracetamol. ("Doctor's orders," John said. "You'll thank me tomorrow.") Sally and Greg covered her with an afghan so she wouldn't have to get up to get under the covers. Each pressed soft kisses to her cheek or her hair and as they were walking away, Molly murmured her thanks and rolled over to fall into her first contented sleep in ages. 


End file.
